


At Last

by rachlovesligers



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachlovesligers/pseuds/rachlovesligers
Summary: After tiptoeing around each other for months on end, Steve volunteers to escort Peggy on a reconnaissance mission. Things take a turn when they’re exposed to a mysterious substance.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133





	At Last

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Steggy Secret Santa 2019 gift for darthbloodorange over on Tumblr

For the first time in months Peggy was alone with Steve—truly, completely alone—and unlike their usual interactions—moments when their paths crossed and Steve would ask her a question he already knew the answer to—they were not going to be interrupted. To say it was rare would be an understatement. Yet Steve was maddeningly professional.

She’d been more suggestive than she would usually dare, on account of there being no other witnesses. But she’d been met with Steve’s sweet smile and innocent blush. If it wasn’t for the lingering looks he shot her when she pretended to be engrossed in a file, she might begin to think he’d lost interest entirely.

Her original intention had been to complete the mission alone—the Hydra facility was empty, after all, and another agent picking up useless information and mucking up the evidence would only frustrate her. But when Steve had suggested that it may be booby-trapped, and volunteered himself as her escort, she couldn’t find it in her to argue.

The thought of several hours of uninterrupted time with Steve had sounded heavenly, but the reality was shockingly mundane.

Peggy made quick work of the ground and first floors, her goal was simple: collect any and all relevant information from the abandoned Hydra compound. Having been abandoned in a hurry—under the allies heavy fire—there was ample information to be had. The trick was collecting the _right_ information.

She had several ripped pages tucked in the front of her coat by the time they ascended to the second floor. She hadn’t missed the thick swallow when Steve averted his eyes, as though tucking a few papers against her chest was a scandalous display.

“I’m terribly sorry you’ve been dragged along on this dull excursion,” Peggy said as she pulled open a filing cabinet drawer. “It must seem an awful waste of your time, to follow me around like a guard dog on the off chance I might need protecting.” She was fishing, and she was sure he knew it.

“Spending time with you isn’t dull,” he replied, taking the bait. “And we both know you don’t need protecting. If you hadn’t saved my ass multiple times I wouldn’t be here to pretend to protect you.”

Peggy smiled as she thumbed through the filing cabinet. She loved when he swore, his lips wrapped around the words and tainted them with a Brooklyn lilt. It was purely Steve Rogers—not a trace of Captain America.

“So why pretend? Why even suggest it at all?” She feigned nonchalance.

When Steve didn’t reply, she turned to face him. He was blushing profusely, shifting from foot to foot—he really had no concept of a poker face. When Steve cleared his throat Peggy took pity on him.

“You wanted to spend time with me.” It wasn’t a question, but Steve nodded nonetheless.

“And why is that?”

Her question seemed to take him by surprise, he stepped back, leaning heavily against a table stocked with medical supplies.

“Well… I suppose I, I like…” he floundered, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

She’d only wanted him to admit what she knew to be true—that her feelings were reciprocated. But watching him squirm felt cruel.

“Steve, I didn’t mean–” she stepped towards him arm outreached, but he didn’t know how to react.

He shifted awkwardly and an array of glass and metal fell, smashing loudly against the concrete. Deep coloured liquid marked veins across the floor, while scalpels and shards of glass scattered.

Steve stood at the epicentre, shocked into complete stillness, and Peggy watched as an ominous pink gas rose from a shattered glass bottle.

As soon as Steve spotted it he crouched, using his body to shield her from the rising gas.

_Self-sacrificing idiot!_ Peggy thought as she ran to him. 

He curled himself over the scene, blocking the majority of the gas, but she could still taste the sickly sweetness of it as it hit the back of her throat. She tugged at his shoulder, but he was solid as marble.

“Get out of here!” He barked, and the way he threw his hand in her direction, urging her away, painfully reminded her of the small private who had jumped on a grenade to save the men who had made his life hell.

“Not without you!” She yelled, finally tugging him away from his imagined duty.

They ran, Steve’s body in close proximity to Peggy’s, his hand on the small of her back, forcing him to keep pace with her.

When they were far from the fumes they stumbled to a stop, breathing the clean air in deeply. Steve seemed to remember himself and stepped back, keeping a sensible distance between them. Peggy felt an ache at the loss of contact.

“Why didn’t you run?” Peggy scalded. She squared her shoulders, pinning him with her gaze.

“ _You_ were supposed to run!” Steve retorted. “You weren’t supposed to breathe any of that stuff in!”

“And leave you behind? Don’t be absurd!”

She stepped closer, crowding his personal space, challenging him to respond. But instead his features softened.

“How do you feel?” He asked, and Peggy couldn’t quite draw her eyes away from his lips.

“Alright.” Her voice was huskier that she intended, but she liked the way it made Steve’s breath stutter. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Good,” Steve nodded, “that’s good.”

She smiled, but didn’t step back. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, as a reflex, jaw set.

She nodded and pushed on. No time to lose.

…

They made it through the rest of the floor before Peggy started feeling… off.

She knew Steve wasn’t feeling himself either by the way he shifted, clearly uncomfortable. His hand rubbed at his thigh, as though trying to scratch an itch. The frown line between his eyebrows made it clear he hadn’t quite got it.

Peggy wondered how much it would take for him to finally admit discomfort to her. She watched his movements as he tried to distract himself with the empty cabinets on the other side of the room. 

His ridiculously large arm pulled at the door and nearly tipped the whole thing over. Even through the layers of fabric—a mixture of cotton and patriotic armour—she could make out the outlines of a magnificent muscular structure. Combined with his soft lips, parted as his breath slipped through them, Peggy felt overwhelmed with desire.

She took a deep breath, shaking her head as though that would shake the thoughts away. Entirely inappropriate thoughts for the workplace, as unconventional as the current workplace was.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, but suddenly the downfall of Hydra didn’t seem so vital. What felt completely and utterly vital was moving closer to Steve.

Her body moved without any conscious decision to do so, as though she had been attached to Steve by a string this entire time, and he was finally, _mercifully_ , pulling her to him.

As Peggy approached she realised that Steve was breathing heavily, he looked pained and it tugged at her heart.

“ _Steve,”_ she almost groaned as she reached for him, her hand finding the small of his back.

The effect was instant—Steve fell to his knees and cried out. His entire body shivered, but as she reached for him he curled in himself, away from her.

“ _Steve?”_ she said more urgently. She could hear his whimpers, soft quiet sounds slipping from his full lips. She scolded herself for the arousal she felt at the sound.

Something was wrong. She stood, ignoring Steve’s protests as she turned and left him. She ran back down the corridor, back to that room. 

The glass was just as they’d left it, but the gas had dispersed. Peggy couldn’t see the pinkness of it anymore, but she could still smell the sugar sweet stench.

Careful not to cut herself, she picked through the shattered glass. Enough of the label was readable that she could figure out what it said.

Her breath caught as her mind translated the label in her hands, the word _aphrodisiac_ jumped out at her, casting Steve’s behaviour and her own urges in a new light.

Less careful—in her shock—she tore the room apart looking for more information. She needed an antidote but all she could find was more of the wretched stuff, more information confirming what she already knew, more files on the results in the test subjects.

She gathered enough knowledge to realise the effects would wear off on their own, eventually, but that the symptoms would be near unbearable if not… _satisfied._

She blushed as images crossed her mind, images of her _satisfying_ Steve, and of him doing the same in return. She tried not to think of what Hydra wanted with an unbearably powerful aphrodisiac, of how procreation might help win the war, but her mind made quick links.

The stacks of missiles, labelled for European and American cities, empty cities would do them no good. Cities of their own people, on the other hand…

Project Rebirth’s original goal was to create a race of super soldiers, after all, was this just a bastardised version of that goal?

A loud groan shook her from her train of thought— _Steve._

He was curled in a ball by the time she reached him, sweat beading on his upper lip. Peggy reached out tentatively, her fingers ghosting over his shoulder. He’d caught the full force of an aphrodisiac tailored almost specifically for him, it was hard to tell if he felt pleasure or pain.

She explained what she’d found, and he appeared to take it in. When her hand squeezed his shoulder, his body relaxed. She understood the feeling—as she stroked back his hair a stillness fell over her. There was no where else she would rather be than here, with him.

“Let me help you,” she murmured.

Steve blinked, coming back to himself. He shook his head and looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“You don’t have to…”

Her hand pulled away in response. “ _Have_ to?”

Steve breathed deeply, his hand squeezing desperately at his thigh. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I can take it.”

It took her a moment to catch up—he really was clueless.

“Do you think I don’t want this? Do you think I haven’t pictured you… pictured _us?_ ”

He gaped at her.

“Shall I help you?” She asked softly, unsure of how he would respond.

He almost groaned as he reached for her, wrapping a strong hand around her wrist.

“ _Yes._ ”

That was all the confirmation she needed. She hauled him up and onto the nearest cot, which thankfully looked spotless.

She pulled at his boots, her desire for him increasing rapidly. She’d wanted Steve for a long time, but suddenly it felt so painfully urgent, as though the walls around her would crumble if she couldn’t have him.

Steve groaned and tugged gently at her blouse, pulling it free from her waistband, along with her vest. His fingers reached under, stroking at her skin. It felt like electricity ran through his veins, creating sparks as he touched her.

She gasped, and the sensation of his fingers tracing patterns on her skin was almost enough to tip her over the edge. She got to work on Steve’s clothes with renewed urgency, and managed to slip out of her own boots and combat trousers in the process.

When she had the bottom half of him stripped, it was more than she could stand. She mounted him as he groaned her name, his strong hands gripped her as he rolled his hips up, trying desperately to meet her.

“Steady,” she warned. He stilled instantly, and waited for her lead.

As she pulled the delicate fabric of her knickers aside and sunk down on him the relief was instant and all consuming, Peggy closed her eyes, her hands braced on Steve’s chest as she rocked. It only took a few movements and Steve was crying out beneath her, his entire body shaking.

She quickly followed, twice, before slowing her pace. Her head felt clearer, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from Steve. She examined him as she gently rocked on top of him.

Colour was high in his cheeks, his beautiful lips parted as quiet whimpers slipped through them. His eyes were closed, which gave her a wonderful view of his thick lashes, such a beautiful feature that softened his entire face.

As his groans started to build, his eyes fluttered open. A distant part of Peggy’s mind screamed at her for not being more responsible—but when the worst possible outcome was growing round with Steve’s child, she really couldn’t find the logic in being responsible _._

Steve moaned, writhing beneath her.

“What do you want?” She knew the answer, but she enjoyed watching his lips try to form the words.

“ _You.”_

As if to punctuate his reply, Steve tightened his grip on her hips. He moved with her, jerking awkwardly until he picked up a rhythm. Steve came, more than once, then frowned up at her.

Wordlessly, she slid his fingers to the spot she needed them most. The fact that Steve was a fast learner and an enthusiastic student was no shock to her, but to feel it so keenly as his fingers worked her over was bliss.

When she could form coherent thoughts again, she extracted herself from Steve. His whine sent a thrill through her, she knew exactly how he felt—the gaping whole left by the sudden loss of skin to skin contact was an almost physical pain. But she was far too hot in the layers she still had on.

She stripped slowly, enjoying the feel on Steve’s eyes on her, enjoying the way his breath caught when she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re beautiful.” It wasn’t a come-on or an empty compliment to get her back on top of him, but a statement said with such sincerity that she blushed.

“Come on, off with this,” she smiled around the words as she tugged at his remaining clothes. He had them off in an instant, and suddenly his beautifully muscular body was laid bare for her.

She’d barely touched him, yet he was hard again, hips rutting against the air. She had to remind herself that he’d inhaled the lion's share of the aphrodisiac—surely he was in agony.

“ _My darling,_ ” she murmured as her hand moved to help him.

With lips and tongue and hands she brought him to a quick peak, and then another, then another. The gaps between each release grew longer, but he still cried out her name every time.

Peggy was quickly learning what he liked—the sensitive spot just under his belly button, how nails raking down his thighs drove him wild. When she explored lower, he became incoherent.

“Steve?”

“Please… please don’t… don’t stop,” he was panting, the words squeezing into the gaps.

With renewed excitement she tested the waters, her fingers tracing delicate skin. She bent his knee up to get a better angle, and switched between gentle massaging and firm pressure.

Peggy realised that if she was going to continue her planned course, she needed the right equipment. Pulling away from Steve was almost more than she could bear, so she stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of him.

The leg she’d folded up was now dangling off the side of the bed, sculpted muscle coated in fine blonde hair, his slim ankle swaying just slightly. The position revealed the soft inner thigh of his other leg, and the wet, pink bite marks she’d left on his skin.

Her eyes traveled up, watching his stomach rise and fall unevenly, the near invisible trail of hair that ran up to his belly button. His chest was marvellously sculpted, and slick with sweat.

“ _Please_ ,” he pleaded, and Peggy remembered her task.

Disturbingly, the facility had everything she needed. She ran back to Steve, her mouth finding his the second she reached him, as though she’d been starved of oxygen and his lips were her only source.

Steve seemed to feel the same, leaning up to meet her lips. He was breathless as his hand cupped her cheek, keeping her close until they were both satisfied.

Peggy felt like she was moulding clay as she moved him, his limbs were slack under her touch. She ran her hands over his arm as she lifted it above his head and kissed the silky soft skin underneath. As she held his wrist, her thumb found his pulse—the thumping beat was soothing and exciting at the same time.

Her fingers trailed down his chest, down planes of hard muscle, then to the softness of his waist. His slim hips reminded her of the small private she fell for, and she leant down to plant a soft kiss on his belly.

She moved lower still, relishing in his soft whimpers as her crimson nails found tender spots. Peggy perched on the bed, and her fingers massaged his slick thigh as she hiked it up, then reached for the tub she’d found.

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as she touched him. She pushed a finger in, then one more. It was the first time she’d ever touched a man in this particular way, but Steve was wonderfully responsive, giving her cues as to how he needed to be touched.

Peggy brought him to several peaks before her own hit her completely by surprise. She shuddered as Steve’s head lolled to the side, his jaw slack.

The sight of him was so unbearably beautiful that she pulled away from him for a moment to touch herself. With her clean hand she rubbed the softest, most sensitive part of herself as she watched Steve catch his breath, watched deep breaths fill him, then leave through parted lips.

His thick lashes brushed at his cheeks as he blinked his eyes open, half-conscious. When he met her gaze and realised what she was doing, his visceral groan tipped her over the edge.

When Peggy had come down from her peak she crawled up Steve’s body and came to rest on top of him. Her slick, throbbing skin pressed against his lower stomach, while her knees folded up on either side of him. His hand found her lower back, and he spread his fingers and held her to him. He was so wonderfully warm.

When she rested a damp hand on his chest, his mouth popped open, and after everything they’d done it still shocked her to realise what he wanted. Her fingers slipped into Steve’s open mouth and his full lips closed around her. As he sucked, ever so gently, tasting her, his eyelids blinked heavily.

When his breathing slowed to an even rhythm, and his eyelids finally closed, Peggy pulled her fingers from his mouth. She pulled back just enough to get a better look at him.

It seemed, so far, that Steve hadn’t experienced any of the more negative side effects the reports had listed, though she still worried. She found his pulse on his neck and held her fingers there, counting the thumping beats.

He didn’t react to her touching him, and she wondered if he was asleep. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted as even breaths slipped through them.

His pulse felt fine, but she kept her hand there slightly longer than necessary, enjoying the comfort it brought her.

Eventually she shifted, resting her head on his shoulder, her face pressed against his neck, and found that the steady rise and fall of his chest was just as comforting.

…

Peggy woke slowly. She stretched against Steve’s body, soft limbs slipping against each other like silk bed sheets.

Steve was still sound asleep, but as she climbed off of him, he woke with a start. His eyebrows puckered as he looked up at her, and she felt his ache at the loss of warm, crushing, skin to skin contact.

“I’ll only be a moment,” she whispered, and fled the room.

She found a sink and filled a glass to the brim, downing it in several gulps. She was filling the third glass when a warm hand on her hip made her jump.

Steve pressed the hot, naked length of his body against her back. His hands roamed her body as she drank, fingers spread across her sternum, while the other hand trailed up and down her side. His face settled in the crook of her neck, and he breathed deeply as he held her.

When her thirst was quenched, she turned in Steve’s arms, and pressed the full glass to his lips. He parted for her, and swallowed as she tipped the glass up.

Peggy led him back to the bed, but when she hopped up, he took the lead. He laid her down and kissed her slowly, then mapped his way down her body. It wasn’t long until she was writhing under him, long nails clutching at his pink skin, scraping against his scalp.

When he was finished, he planted a soft kiss between her breasts, then finally slid inside her. She pulled her knees up to take him deeper, and they both became lost in each other.

Eventually Steve fell on top of her, shuddering, his entire body rising and falling as she panted, still trying to catch her breath. She cuddled him close, _her partner_ , pressing kisses to his forehead as he moaned softly, stroking her fingers through his sweat damp hair. 

The quiet, sweet sounds that left his lips seemed at odds with his enormous and muscular physique, but fitted exactly with the man she knew him to be inside, her sweet and gentle Steve.

Her hand slipped between them and found the comforting thrum of his heartbeat.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly.

“I’m _so_ happy.” He sounded delirious.

“Not precisely what I meant.”

“I’m Peggy Carter’s steady,” he mumbled, the words buzzing against her chest.

Peggy felt a smile spread across her face. “Yes, quite.”

…

The crackling of the radio pulled Peggy towards wakefulness, just before Dugan’s booming voice startled her into full consciousness.

Her blissful peace with Steve came to a crashing end.

…

He found her in Colonel Phillips’ tent, three long days later. Peggy had kept her eye on him from a distance, had traded a square of chocolate for information from his nurse. But she hadn’t had the privilege of being alone with him since…

“Agent Carter.” He nodded in greeting, then cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I think we’re long past formalities, don’t you?”

Steve blushed ever so slightly, but otherwise gave nothing away.

“Peggy,” he corrected.

He must have known she was in the tent alone. Philips was busy breaking in the new arrivals, and there were few people he trusted enough to leave in his office unattended. Peggy was one of them.

Steve wasn’t instantly forthcoming, so she took the lead. “Did it last very long for you, afterwards?”

He seemed taken aback. “A couple’a hours,” he finally replied.

Peggy winced at the thought. “No other women took your fancy?”

He frowned.

“I’m joking, Steve.”

But he pressed on anyway. “I’m only interested in one woman.”

She felt her cheeks warming. “I suppose the substance we inhaled doesn’t create feelings, it only amplifies them.”

Steve swallowed audibly.

“How can I help you, Steve?”

He cleared his throat again, a nervous tell, and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I wanted to talk about the other day, when we…” he waved his hand, as though a simple gesture could summarise everything that had happened between them.

“I rather enjoyed it,” she said boldly, warmth pooling deep within her, “didn’t you?”

“You know I did.” His voice was low, and her thighs clenched in response. “But I have something I need to say first.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow.

“We didn’t use protection.”

She swallowed. “We didn’t.”

Thick silence hung in the air around them, the space felt crowded with everything they weren’t saying. Brand new potential futures stretched before them, ones that hadn’t been possible days earlier. She imagined the horribly risky procedure, another loss in a war zone, or worse, a child in a war zone… what had they done?

“I ought to have…” the words slipped out of Peggy’s lips just as Steve opened his mouth.

“We both made that choice.” Steve kept his voice even, and his jaw was set in that familiar way that told her he’d made up his mind about something. “I’m going to do the right thing by you.”

Peggy laughed out of shock, was this his idea of a proposal? But Steve only frowned.

Softening, she stepped closer. When she was near enough that she could feel his warmth, she reached up to cup his cheek. “I know you will, my darling, but we can cross that bridge  _ if _ we come to it.”

Steve nodded, seemingly satisfied, and pulled her hips against his. It was an extremely bold move for him, and left Peggy breathless. Their kiss was comparatively chaste, but as Steve left the tent, wiping lipstick off his lips, she realised it was the first of many.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Thirsty (In more ways than one)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529407) by [GeekyNerdDemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekyNerdDemon/pseuds/GeekyNerdDemon)




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